Merry Christmas!!!



While other countries celebrate Christmas on the 25th of December, Sweden is celebrating it on the 24th. A bit odd, yes. But why be like everybody else? Why follow the norm?
I heard a comedian describing it as:

-“Since Jesus was actually born on the 25th, everyone else is celebrating then. But we choose to celebrate the journey to the big event. It’s like enjoying the taxi ride to a big party as the main event on New Years Eve!”

Another tradition we choose to rebel against is what food we choose to celebrate with. Most other countries have turkey for dinner, while our main dish is ham. But this is not because we are especially fond of pork in particular, but is a tradition that has remained from our pagan past before we were made Christians.

Basically we eat our pagan Gods’ pet pig Särimner, who used to live (lives) with them in Valhall and get/s eaten every night. It didn’t matter much and rumours say he didn’t mind particularly much either, since he was resurrected from the dead each morning. A pretty handy solution that suited everyone.

To be honest, I’ve always thought it was a bit…well, slightly provocative, to celebrate the main event of your religion by using traditions from the one you’re supposed to have abandoned. And at the same time, maybe just a tiny bit amusing…

Have a fabulous holiday!

I think I must have experienced some sort of a trauma with a vacuum cleaner when I was little. Some trauma that was so horrifying that I felt I had to repress it, because I have no idea of what it was that evidently must have happened. I can't explain it in any other way.



I feel relatively comfortable with doing the vacuuming myself. I guess that way I'm sort of in control and if the vacuuming should get out of hand, then at least I'm vaguely prepared. But having someone else doing it, especially without letting me know well in advance...I'd rather run off to lock myself up naked in a beehive until it's all over!

I hate the way it sounds. I hate the way it looks. Millions of pets can’t possibly be wrong! It must be the most aggressive of all domestic appliances! Why can’t anyone invent a silent vacuum cleaner? How hard can it be? Maybe one with a mechanism based on magnetism? Or laser beams? Or nuclear radiation?

There you go! I’ve done it! Now, until these things have been sorted out – go use a broom!

Brrr…………………………………………………………

It’s scary how short the process of becoming a potential megalomaniac really is. I was out hiking the other day and thought I could quite easily finish a “coast to coast” trail here in Sweden in three days.

Yes, I know that the initial spontaneous outbreak of a reaction from a geographically uneducated British person, would generally be something along the lines of:

-“But oh my God, you can’t do that! All across Sweden? That’s really far! No one can walk from Oslo to Reykjavik in just three days! That must be like walking all the way to Norwich or something… From London!”



Yeah, pretty much. But then again, not really. Scania is the most narrow part of Sweden so walking from coast to coast only adds up to about 120 km. (If you’re a bird and choose to fly instead, I reckon it would even just be around 100 km.)

And then while walking there I started thinking. What if I (at some other occasion obviously) walked through Denmark as well? Denmark is a small country. It can be done pretty easily. A bit each time I was over here visiting. Pack a few sandwiches and some tea. What more do I need. Well, a map possibly, but apart from that I’d be sorted.

Because, if I had done that…well, then, since there’s nothing but water on the other side of Esbjerg, it would be as if I’d walked from Sweden to England! Because you cant walk on water. (Unless it’s frozen, and the climate change has made sure that’s not likely to happen any time soon.)

Wait, hang on, that new rule means that I wouldn't just have walked from Sweden to England, but from Latvia to England, because that’s what there is on the other side of the sea east of Scania!
Fair enough, I haven’t even been to Latvia but that’s not here nor there really. I feel it’s important that we focus on what matters here now. That we pay attention.

Then I went home and started glancing through a few atlases. Turns out Latvia is not all that big, you know! Not too big to walk through at least. And having walked all the way to a former superpower has a completely different ring to it, than just to a Baltic state that isn’t very well known at all. I mean, no offence to Latvia, but if I told let’s say a Chinese or an Australian that I’d walked to Russia, they’d known what I was on about immediately and would straight away feel appropriately impressed, whereas if I’d just pointed out I’d taken the boat to Riga, they’d probably just feel confused!

Latvia could be done. Just a mere obstacle that could be taken care of. Not really a problem if you thought about it. And I did.

And then I thought that, well, I’ve already walked quite a bit in England already. Would be a bit of a shame not to include that in my victory, no? Walking through the rest of west England could be accomplished relatively easy.

But that means I would have walked from Russia to Wales. Well, that sounds a bit daft, doesn’t it? Unless I’m Welsh. Which I’m not.

Wales is not that big though. I was watching it closely when I was on a plane from Iceland once, and it looked not just small, but flat. Easy to cross. Excellent...

That means I would have walked to Ireland! And what’s pretty handy is that I’ve already been to Ireland – twice, so I wouldn’t even have to go there to complete the trip!

But Ireland…sounds a bit like Latvia, doesn’t it? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love Ireland (otherwise I wouldn’t have gone back a second time, would I now?) No, I’m just saying, it doesn’t feel all that far away to someone living in London.

And all that water on the other side of it…

…that stretches all the way to…

…I’ve said I wanted to go to New York for aaages! And the second I got there and jumped off the plane it would instantly mean that I’ve walked from Russia to the US! (Because the aim would have been to walk TO the US, not THROUGH it…) Listen to the sound of that!

I would have walked around ½ of the planet!!! THAT’s something to put on the CV, I tell you!




PS. It’s a talent to be able to bend the rules and simplify things to the extreme.


PS2. Did I mention I used to be into politics?

Was planning to do a bit of hiking in the next couple of days, providing that the weather would be fine.

So I went to the BBC weather site to check the forecast.
So far, no confusion.
I was even humming.

Then suddenly I found myself getting talked into participating in a "brief" survey, since my "opinion was very important to them".

Oh, in that case...

The brief survey was estimated to last for 5 minutes. I could easily find ways to shorten it to about 2 mintes...tops!
In fact, it seems to me that a few of the questions have been added just to fill out space! I just can't comprehend how the answers the BBC gets, can possibly guide or enlighten them all that much.

Why have you come to the weather site today?
-To check the weather (!)

How do you plan on finding out this information?
-By using the site (?)


No, but come ON!!!

Huh?

Give me a break...

Have eaten a ridiculous amount of fish since I got over here to Sweden. Sometimes twice a day. And on one mental occasion, three times a day! Cod, mackerel, smoked salmon, grilled salmon, herrings made with Christmas spices, herrings pickled with onions, with mustard, with tiny little berries…and at the moment all I can think of is this delicious eel recipe I saw on the morning news show. They are really tasty things, eels.



Oh, and there’s something else that I feel that I’ve grown an obsession with. Take a look at this man:



He says he’s a comedian, but he’s so much more to me than that. I prefer to think of him as a potential future husband. Or at least an ideal future husband. What to aim for. Or maybe, rather what my boyfriends should aim for, so to speak. What's not to like! Yes, our lives would be perfect. We would whistle and pick mushrooms in the forest every afternoon and then, after feeding the ducks, we would retire to the attic for silent composing and poetry writing for the remains of the day. Yeah, that's pretty much how life with me would be.

Finally in Sweden, and God am I happy to be here this time! It's not that I'm not enjoying London, not at all! It's just that I've really needed a break and to get home for a bit lately. I got here on tuesday, and the first two days flew by. I didn't even admit to anyone that I was here. My friend Jonas has asked me about 18 times a day wether I'm in Malmö or not, trying to make me slip up and admit it. But I've been very mysterious so far.


I've just wrapped myself up in some sort of cocoon enjoying the peace and quiet. And silence can be incredibly beautiful at times. London is never quiet. There's always some idiot screaming, arguing with someone after leaving a party at three o' clock in the morning, a car alarm that is being set off by some cuddlish fox or a row of police cars racing down the street.
But now being in my parents house in Sweden, sitting by the computer in the middle of the night, I realize that you end up getting used to it, in some way and to some extent, but then when you go away you suddenly notice what you're missing - peace.

I can only speak for myself though. People need different things in life. I love living in one of the biggest cities in the world, but at the same time I need to escape it now and then. That's equally important to me. And then it's also nice to come home and speak your own language for a bit, watch swedish tv, read swedish news papers...stuff like that.

I was a bit dissappointed with my parents for not having got around to getting a christmas tree by the time I got here, but think we'll get one on sunday or so. They had valid reasons though, since they had both been to Oslo in Norway for a bit just up until the same morning as I arrived. And a tree, they meant, needs to be watered every day. (And it was only the 11th of december...) Fair enough. But they sure had made an effort with all the other decorations.

My absolute favourite part, is the garden. I feel like I'm automatically meditating just by watching it from inside. It's so incredibly beautiful and soothing that all I want to do is to wrap myself up in a blanket and drink hot cocoa for hours. (There's where the cocoon comes into the picture!) There are loads of tiny little amber lamps and lights covering the trees and bushes. And if you sit inside watching them in the dark through the curtains loosely weaved in cream with thin golden threads, the gentle wind makes the lights fall and move from the windows over the floor as a glittering stream of golden water in a magic forest (just that tree missing...) Makes it very easy to relax. :)

I think christmas lights in general are very important to scandinavians because another tradition is to have candles in all of your windows. Wherever you go and wherever you look, you see candles in every window in every house! I think it might be a bit hard to imagine if you haven’t seen it for yourself. That’s one of the things I’ve always missed about Sweden in winter during my years abroad.


Speaking of magic... Yesterday (well, actually it's way past midnight so I guess saying "two days ago" would be more appropriate) it was Lucia here in Sweden. This is when we celebrate the longest night of the year by putting candles in our hair, singing songs, eating saffron cakes and gingerbread, drinking glögg at six in the morning. To make a long story short.



But this year I saw something I've never seen before. When I went past the canal I saw severel wooden canoes passing silently with candles and full Lucia gear in the water. It looked a bit like a dream. Like something out of a fairytale. :)

But later I heard that last year they even had Lucia divers with white dresses and lights underneath the water! Even better. Brilliant! :D

My street is a weird street. Well, I guess it’s not really strictly speaking “mine”, but close enough.


This morning when I looked out through the window the first thing I saw was a man trying to sell a totem pole. I think he was even working in the shop across the road because he was repeatedly entering it. I was just thinking – shouldn’t totem poles go under what’s generally referred to as either warfare material or torture equipment? I mean, if I went down there opening a stand of my own trying to sell rifles, poisonous arrows or maybe a few homemade bombs I’m sure that I’d at least get an objecting letter in the post from the authorities? To be fair, the shop was also selling peaceful stuff like dvd’s and mirrors. But then again, that’s what I’d personally call a cover up strategy.

There’s been other things that have confused me as well. People still keep wishing me a Merry Christmas. Look, as I’ve explained in an earlier post, I started celebrating Christmas on the 17th of October! So that means that I’ve now been celebrating for 53 days. It’s getting a bit tedious to be quite honest with you. I don’t want any more greetings. I don’t even want snow anymore. I feel like it should be over by now. I’m ready for Easter! It was a great “weird-thing-to-do” (see earlier posts) but enough is enough. One more elf and things could turn dirty…

Speaking of my “weird-things-to-do” project, I’m really looking forward to New Year, which is a fantastic opportunity for me to take it to another level! I’ve got loads of plans but feel I can’t really start them until day 01-01-08! My friend suggested I’d start calling them “mental-things-to-do” but I’m just not prepared to enter that sort of territory. Yet.

I can warmly recommend my last year’s New Year resolution of doing 1 weird thing a week for a year! Trust me when I say it will enrich your lives. But today I had something of a reality check. I thought my endeavours of learning how to yodel, to build an igloo, being a vegan for a week, a vegetarian for another, blindly following obscure signs, going digging for Viking treasures, going trainspotting, stop using sugar, voluntarily living off £30 for one whole week, thinking like a guy for a week, being girly to the extreme for another, becoming a scientologist for a week, living off fruit for a week, starting a weird group on the internet, making them all go on an obscure trip, going to see a film I really didn’t want to see, going hunting for UFO’s, walking to Brighton, Windsor and Cambridge, celebrating Christmas in summer etc etc etc, were pretty odd, but today I found a guy who is clearly willing to take things one step further.

He’s started a project with an aim to make 1000 people happy. Well, at first that sounds pretty good and jolly in an easygoing way, but he’s decided that he’s willing to do whatever anybody wants him to do to in order to achieve it! That’s something I would never do. That, according to me, is what makes the difference between “weird” and “mental”. I mean, I guess it could be compared to some sort of random acts of niceness, but while things like those are all on your own conditions, he’s putting himself in other’s hands completely!

So I immediately decided I’d give him a challenge when I get back to London after my trip to Sweden. My friend Esther straight away suggested that we’d ask him to give her a massage (the saucy minx!), but I think we should aim higher. Nothing mean or demeaning, mind you, cos that wouldn’t be encouraging him in a long term sense. And trust me, weird people are to be encouraged! That’s the way to go. It’s in our interest as a community.

;-)

Just had a serious crisis. Ok, not a major major one but still big enough to be annoying. I was at home drinking tea listening to some song about flowers when I suddenly got a strange feeling that I had booked the "wrong" flight for next week. Or rather that I had memorized the wrong date. The feeling just wouldn't go away.


For over a month I've been sure that I had booked a flight for tuesday morning, but today, for no apparant reason I was suddenly equally certain of that I had instead booked a flight for monday. Unless I bought a new ticket that would have caused me a lot of problems! I managed to have a proper go at myself before I got online to check the booking, being pissed off about how I could be so incredibly disorganised. Then just now I checked it and apperantly my flight was on tuesday. Turns out I'm pretty organised after all.

Felt like I owed myself a bit of an apology for not trusting myself (and not to mention the namecalling...) so I bought myself some Doritos. Yum. So nice. The cheesy ones. Nice.

Also having a drink...Vimto...a fruitjuice made of berries with added vitamins. B, D and E apperantly. And was just thinking, why not add vitamins to all drinks? I mean, who would not want a few extra vintamins? Why would you mind them, going:

-"Oh bollocks, I would really have loved to buy this drink right now, but (and now looking incredibly disappointed) it's got vitamins in it...can't believe they don't have any vitamin-free option!"

In fact, come to think of it - even Diet Coke has now come out with two new options with added vitamins and antioxidants. That's great! That's fantastic! This has definitely changed the relationship between me and Coke. It hasn't been what it used to be lately so we really needed something new to keep the romance alive. And now after this we're feeling more passionate than ever!

Lazy today... And it's so comfy here in front of the computer it's hard to leave (cos that would lead to me having to do boring stuff like going to Sainsburys)

Yawn...

Speaking of weird feelings by the way, for some reason I've felt extraordinarily tall since yesterday. I can't explain it. Was out in a (large) bar with Nicola and some others last night and when looking around myself I suddenly felt really tall. There were quite a lot of people there but most of them seemed shorter than me. And then today walking down Portobello Road, again I had the same feeling! Everyone around me seemed so short! It's weird. I can't explain it.

Ok, I guess I am relatively tall, 1,76m, but still I felt much taller than usual. And, ok, yesterday I had heals that were about 8 cms high, but today I was wearing flats! And either way, it doesn't matter cos it's not as if I believe that I've mysteriously grown... (That would be silly.) No, I'm just saying I think it's everyone else that have somehow shrunk.
But it's great! I can see for miles.

Yaaawn... Ok, I better go.

Hey, my bugbite seems to have grown by the way! It hurts. Once Bart Simpson got stung by a mosquito with malaria that had been trapped inside some toy that had been made in China! Maybe the same thing has now happened to me? Should I worry? Oh bloody hell, why now? Why now?

Yawn...nah, can't sit here all day and talk nonsense. Me off to buy sushi! ! ! And some vitamin coke.

Have a nice evening!

:)

Such an annoying day! It didn't start off well. At all. Woke up and noticed that somehow during the night I'd got some sort of bug bite on my arm. It was itching. Still is. In fact there are 3 smaller bites in an area of about 1 cm. There is a fair chance that this is my own fault, since I'm insisting on always sleeping with the window open. Any other option seems weird.

But that's not the main problem. The bug had to eat. I understand. Whatever. But I've read that everyone accidently swallows about 100 bugs while sleeping during a lifetime (10 of them being spiders). So that means there's a dangerously big chance that I ate this bug last night. (Because it wasn't there when I woke up, was it?!!)

I mean, there's a much bigger chance that 1 of my 100 quota occurred last night rather than, let's say, the night before...when there wasn't any bug around to begin with (that I know of).

It's a bit like taking a bite of an apple finding a worm... What's worse? Finding 1/2 a worm!

But trust me I'm not exactly feeling any remorse. He deserved it. HE STARTED IT FOR GOD'S SAKE!

Then later I went to Tesco for one reason and one reason only - to get some croquettes (since we had some in the pub yesterday and I've been thinking about them all day).
Ok, I get to the shop and know exactly where they are. Easy mission - easy life.
Just that when I'm about 20 cm away from them this crazy, and supposedly really hungry woman manages to grab every package on the shelf. About 14 of them! Are you KIDDING me? Lucklily I found one that had fallen down to the shelf below and for a moment I actually thought she was gonna dive for that one as well...as in "oh pleeease let me have that one, I've only got 14 and would really really like to have just one more..."

That would have led to something of a conflict.

Saw a movie a couple of days ago, ”Number 23”, with Jim Carrey. I wasn’t completely sure what it was about other than it concerned coincidences. I like coincidences. I’m a bit obsessed with them myself on an on and off basis. But in a good way. In the movie the obsession certainly wasn’t of the pleasant kind, but full on paranoia!


To put it briefly, it’s about a guy who feels he’s being followed by the number 23. And then weird and bad things happen. (I told you I’d be brief.) But seeing the film made me feel as if I had heard something similar before, I just couldn’t remember exactly what it was. So I decided to quickly check it up on the internet. Apparently this is a well known phenomena! This fear of number 23 has been around forever! It sounds like absolute lunacy at first, but when you start reading about the “proofs” it becomes rather intriguing. Everything seems to add up to 23 in one way or another.

But at the same time, mankind has always felt a need to look for patterns in things as some way of finding reason and order. It’s in our nature. Having said that, even Jung (Freud’s college), has acknowledged the fact that coincidences do occur in inexplicable ways.
One of his example was a person sitting in a room thinking about a beetle only to find one flying in through the window the next minute. He explained that he had come upon a lot of these occurrences in his time as a psychologist, but meant that instead of it being a higher power throwing in a beetle in order to give the person a sign, it’s the person who’s able to “feel” or see it in advance.
I’ve studied psychology but haven’t yet looked into that specific area much. But either way it sounds as if Jung were quite open minded to at least the ability of having somewhat of a sixth sense. But I’ll have to check up on it further before I’m making any assumptions.

Maybe number 23 really is the answer to the mystery behind life, I don’t know, yet, but I did find some of it quite amusing…

The letter “W” is the 23rd letter of the alphabet. (Here you’re supposed to feel a rising level of expectations. You’re somewhat excited.)
The letter “W” has also got 2 edges pointing downwards…and 3 upwards. (Now, you’re probably uttering things like “I’ll be damned” and start fidgeting with a paperclip or nervously chewing on a pen.)
Now is where it gets really spooky.
Look at your keyboard…the letter “W” is placed exactly below the numbers “2” and “3”!
(You’ve probably fallen off your chair by now, or got a hiccup. Probably both.)

But to be fair, there are other “more convincing” arguments as well, like 2/3= 0.666

;)

I even found a guy who had written to a magazine for help explaining that his girlfriend had lately become obsessed with the number 23, and felt that it was following her. Only the other day at the same time as she was in a taxi explaining her problem to her friend, the fare turned out to be…23£!!! Now he was wondering if this could possibly be contagious and if he was risking ending up with the same psychosis himself?

It’s horrible, really, I feel sorry for them. But it’s hard to refrain from at least smiling gently.

Then yesterday I went swimming. Only two kilometres, but they say one equals a full workout so I figured two would be quite ok. Even if it doesn’t take that long, it’s easy to get just a little bit bored there and then while doing the lanes. At the same time you’re feeling incredibly relaxed! But your mind starts to wander. And I started thinking about what actually causes paranoia. While reading about it in the papers or seeing films about it, two comments seem to frequently occur.

-“You’ve got too much time on your hands! You need to distract yourself!”
-“You’re too busy! You’re simply stressed out. You need to relax!”

They seem to contradict each other somewhat. So does paranoia hit in when we’re either bored or overly stimulated? Or in both situations?I read an interview with Bill Nighy today, where he was asked

-“When and where are you happiest”?

And he answered

-“At work, because, like most people, I use work as a way of not having to do all the tough stuff – like life!”

Paranoia and all other anxiety disorders are about fear. And it made me think that, a lot of people, maybe even most, seem to have a need for distraction in order to keep themselves from facing life, which means they/we seem to have a fundamental fear of life in itself. That we unconsciously equalize life with fear! (But this is a larger subject that deserves a post on its own!)

Either way, while swimming I was thinking about the connexion between the boredom and the relaxation that I felt and thought about how differently people behave to feel relaxed.
And I thought that if something as repetitive and boring as swimming can make you feel so relaxed, then surely the best holiday for someone seeking relaxation would be to go somewhere incredibly boring, with no stimulation whatsoever! They’d come home mellow as cucumbers! Surely!
And it would work on other levels as well. Let’s say you’re spending your holiday on a beautiful paradise beach in Thailand, and then coming home to go back to a grey office in a rainy town somewhere in England, surely that’s not the happiest of endings? But if you went to the most horrible rat infested hellhole on earth, just imagine how happy you would feel to get home and get back to work! :)

Once, me and my friend went on a daytrip from Malmö to Rostock in Germany and were both agreeing on that that must have been the worst city we’d ever seen. When we got back home we were laughing in pure ecstasy! We were happy beyond belief!

But I don’t think this idea is something that is going to catch on. Honestly. I really don’t. And after all, fun and excitement can function as distractions from …life, which after all, I guess would be the most efficient way to relax of them all.

Anyway, I’m off to Sweden next week so am having a busy time at the moment. I’m trying to find ways to fit in as many friends as I can in my last week, which is not exactly easy to be honest. Tonight I’m going to some sort of party based on a Dutch tradition of having a scary Santa dressed in black going around freaking people out. Sounds promising. If you’ve been good, you get to sit in his lap and be fed candy and if you’ve been bad, you get spanked! :)

Sounds like there could be a fair few interesting police reports coming up.

Crime: Sexual harassment.
Surname: Claus
First name: Santa

:) :) :)

Oh, by the way, by using numerology (A=1, B=2, C=3 etc) my name – EVELYN NYSTRÖM equals…………………………………………………………………………….23

Went to Cardiff a couple of days ago!

Had to go there for some research, but was surprised that I managed to actually get there! A while back a clairvoyant insisted on my grandmother telling her that I had to go to Wales. She told me a lot of other things as well, like that I’d bought three pairs of shoes that week, and everything was spot on! So I thought that at some point, I’d better go to Wales then. Better check out what it was that the spirits wanted to show me. I expected some amazing life changing sign of monstrous proportions.

But every time I had tried to get there, something had got in the way. It just hadn’t been working out! Not because of insignificant little things as me changing my mind because something else had come up, no, but because of seriously full on interference!
Once I had bought a ticket to get there over the day but then I couldn’t get to the station since the tube suddenly stopped for over half an hour and we were told that we had to take “alternative routes” in order to get to our destinations. Well, since the alternative routes were all very time consuming, I missed my departure! What can you do?

The next time me and a friend were supposed to go hand gliding in Wales with two others I’d met. In the last minute the van we were going to get there in was being held up by the driver’s friend, so we had to postpone the trip! Annoying, yes! But again, what can you do?

The third time I got really close and ended up in Bath with a promise of a connection, just in order to find out I wouldn’t be able to get back in time for my return trip. Then I started to seriously wonder what was going on…
It seemed to me that I wasn’t supposed to get to Wales until the time was ripe, that I was only allowed to get there in order to catch the right moment. Again there’s not all that much you can do in situations like that. You can’t argue with higher powers.

This time I wasn’t thinking much about the clairvoyant though. I was busy being concerned about where all the sheep had gone to! Wales is famous for their sheep. It’s their “thing”! So when crossing the border I was clinging to the window expecting to see hoards of sheep floating like white marshmallow rivers over the green meadows and fields. I had some pretty vivid pictures in my mind right there and then and was beginning to feel quite excited!

But not a single sheep was to be seen. Surely every heard has got at least one lost lamb? No, not even in the capital! I felt confused. I looked around myself in something that can probably only be described as panic, to see if the other passengers were experiencing the same trauma, but I couldn’t detect anything. Not right there and then, at least. I guess they hid their anxiety well. It was as if my paradigm of the world as I’d known it had suddenly been shattered to pieces! I asked the staff in the tourist information, the police, random people I got in contact with…no one knew what had happened to them. I mean it’s a bit like if you went to let’s say Dublin only to find out that the Guinness was finished! You’d ask for a refund, surely! I felt a bit annoyed.

I wanted sheep! Once when me and Marta were camping in the Isle of Skye in Scotland, we were, after a fair amount of booze, trying to get a sheep to come “home” and spend the night with us in the tent. It made sense! It was cold and people make clothes of the wool that comes from sheep (and also they looked so fluffy…) so the logical thing to do would surely be to invite one to function as a pillow? Did I mention that we weren’t sober?

Well even without the sheep it became an eventful day to say the least. The Welsh seems to be a very friendly bunch! Everyone seems to quite easily find a reason to chat with you. One particularly happy woman felt the need to come and talk to me in a café in order to tell me she was a Piscean. So am I! Immediately I remembered the clairvoyant and the signs I should be looking out for in Wales. Surely this must be it? A Piscean? That’s IT! I decided to absorb everything she had to tell me so I prepared myself for some eager listening.
We talked for quite a while but most of the conversation ended up being about her winning loads of money on a horse. She told me I simply had to go for it and do the same – put some money on a horse!

Ok, higher powers…listen, I appreciate that you’re trying to make me rich. I really do. I’m not complaining about that at all. But gambling?! Couldn’t you at least have used some reasonable means for me to accomplish it with? I’m rubbish at gambling! I haven’t bet on a horse since I was about 15 when I came with my friend to the stables where she used to hang out (because she had a crush on some jockey). I mean, if I were to bet on a horse, it would probably be on one that had a name similar to mine or one that had given me a particularly friendly look. In other words, this is really, really not my field…

I don’t even believe in gambling or betting or anything of the sorts. It seems stupid to me. Ok, fair enough, if you really know the horses then, well, I guess you’ve got a chance to win, but otherwise what’s the point! Joanna and Marta have been playing the Lottery for years and have eagerly tried to convince me to do it with them. Yawn. Yes, I tried. Guess what? I lost! I mean, I’m not saying it’s stupid to play the lottery, (what harm is there?), but the statistics are quite clear. I just don’t understand how people can feel any level of motivation or stimulation to do it. Or even worse – excitement! I guess it’s just never been my thing.

But then now, I guess I have to bet on a horse. No idea which one. I guess I’ll just look for a sign… Or the one closest to my name ;)
When I got home I thought that maybe it doesn’t have to be specifically on horses so I bought a scratch card. It had polar bears on it. I didn’t win.

Anyway, there was one thing there in Cardiff that did impress me. The Wales Millenium Centre. It’s got a huge stone with a beautiful piece of poetry reading half in Welsh and half in English saying;

“ Creu gwir fel gwydr, o ffwrnais awn” -

“Creating truth like glass, from the furnace of inspiration – in these stones horizons sing”.

I loved it! It’s beautiful! And ingeniously, if you’re bilingual and you understand both Welsh and English (which I don’t), you can overlap the two messages and get a third “poem”…

Brilliant!

I know what I want for Christmas! I know what I want for Christmas! Probably the same as everybody else - an ant colony! First when I saw it in a magazine I decided to get it for someone else, but soon I realized this was something I simply had to get myself as well! And I wasn’t prepared to leave it to chance, hinting to people that this might be my ultimate present. You just can’t trust people when it comes to important issues like that.


It looks so amazing! You can even get a separate illuminator. Although I assume that you’d have to turn it off at night so that the ants get their 8 hours sleep. I remember clearly from when I was having rabbits that you have to respect your pets sleeping routines. Otherwise there might be sulking involved.

As you can see it looks like a very flat aquarium containing some fluorescent jelly with a lot of dug up paths in it. Apparently the jelly has got all the nutrients the ants need. It even hydrates them so they are completely sorted in there, all by themselves! No need for feeding or even walking them unless you feel that you really want to. It’s THE pet alternative for let’s say lazy and irresponsible people or people who travel much! Some people might go as far as calling it a revolution.

I was indescribably excited and had already started thinking up names when I suddenly saw something written just underneath the advert:

”Ants not included!”

-“What?!”

I tried to let it sink in, to reflect upon it, but my response was still nevertheless:

-“What?!”

At first you may be forgiven for thinking it would be quite easy to solve the problem by yourself. You can just pop out in the garden or the park to pick a few. Surely they won’t mind.

Look, as far as I know, ants are pretty much like bees! (Apart from the wings and the honey and all that.) They’ve got societies made up of a bunch of male workers while a queen is sorting out the kids! How the hell am I going to find a queen in the park? How would I be able to differentiate between them? How would I know it’s a female? They’re not exactly wearing skirts!

I don’t know if I’ve missed anything here, but according to my calculations (ok, guesses) it could take years, or at least several weeks of full time work to find the right ants! And then, they sort of have to like each other, surely? Ant societies are based on team work. Well, they are not going to build any bloody teams if they’re spending their time arguing, are they?

Although…maybe you can buy some sort of separate ant package on the internet?! You can get everything else there, so why not this? Seems reasonable! There must be millions of ant collectors in the world. Right this minute, fighting the same battle…

…watch this space!


PS. Bought a disposable electric toothbrush a couple of days ago. Got a battery inside it and when its worn out you just throw it away. Easy. But then I read on the package:
”Lasts for 3-4 months.”

I’m sure I’m giving the impression that my conversations with myself aren’t all that creative, because my reply was exactly the same as the one concerning the ants:

-“What?!”

3-4 months? That can’t be right! I’m normally not using the same tooth brush for longer than 1 month! Why on earth would I want to do that? They are much nicer when they’re new and it must be more hygienic as well! 3-4 months!?! Just seems wrong somehow… A bit like not changing your clothes for 3-4 days!

But maybe it’s got something to do with the fact that I’ve grown up in a very umm..tooth brush friendly home! My dad has always seemed to be quite fascinated with what are the latest brushes on the market and has therefore always, during my whole life, made sure (and still does) that there are at least about 30 different tooth brushes available at all times to choose between at home.

I’ve always liked people with different…“hobbies”! :)


PS. Actually, he’s quite into toothpaste as well…

PS.2. But clearly it’s a pretty effective tactic for a dad to use because I’ve only had one single hole in my entire life. And my brother none!

Happy Thanksgiving!!!

Yeah, yeah I know, we don’t really do Thanksgiving in neither Britain nor Sweden, but so what? It’s as good a reason to celebrate as any other and it also doesn’t hurt to take some time to think about all the things we should be grateful for. I’m spending my day thanking people around me and have also had a little prayer to tell God that, you know…I’m thankful!


It’s great because it makes you think about how many things there really are to be grateful for that you normally just take for granted, or sometimes even complain about. I don’t want to sound tedious here, but there are a lot of people who don’t even have food on their table. It’s quite painful to think about actually. That thought makes me feel quite guilty to be honest.

Today, if you see someone homeless or a Big Issue seller – give them some money!
Or even better – send some money to charity! It doesn’t have to be much, even just a little sum makes a difference. Do both!

I sometimes send money to a charity that takes care of unwanted or hurt pets and other animals. The staff works completely for free and I’m just so happy that places like that exist. Yes, I know, it might not “seem” as important as a charity that works with cancer or HIV, but that doesn’t mean it’s not important to support them. Someone has to think of the little ones as well.

Was going to meet some people in Putney tonight, but have been talked into going for dinner in Tooting instead. (Well, dinner feels more appropriate on Thanksgiving than just meeting up for a drink…) Nicola is organising for a group of people to get together once a week for either dinner or drinks in the Tooting and Clapham area where she lives. And two weeks ago when I almost went, but couldn’t face the long journey, I promised to come the next time instead.

I’ll explain what I mean by “long journey”. I think people who don’t live in London (and especially people living in places like Sweden) have a hard time understanding what that actually involves. I live in the west in zone 1-2 (depending on which tube I go to). Tooting is in the south in zone 4. The quickest way I can get there takes about 75 minutes. That means going there and then later, coming back, add up to a travel time of 2,5 hours! It’s a lot! The new Eurostar trains go to Paris in that time!

It takes equally long for me to pop over to my friend in south London and back, as it takes for me to get to Paris!

When you think about it, you realize how crazy it sounds! (Nicola, I’m not complaining about coming to your dinner babe – looking forward to it – I’m just contemplating the distances in London in general. It’s the same when it comes to visiting people in the east and to some degree north…don’t get me wrong x)

But what can you do? It’s a big city! Very big city even…

Well I guess, there are people who have got it worse. The largest city in the world is actually located in Sweden! (I know, you’re probably choking on your tea right this second, shouting obscene words in protest…that’s what normally happens when I try to point this out.)

But nevertheless, it’s true! Kiruna in the north of Sweden IS the largest city in the world. Not population wise (hehe..you must be kidding) but space wise! It really is! So I guess the people living there must have a worse time getting around than we do!

But then again, they’ve got really cool scooters and no annoying tourists in their way to slow them down, so they can just hover their way over the snow at light speed and then whoosh…they’re there! Something like that.

Was watching a commercial from Boots just the other day saying “COLDS are effecting us in different ways!” Then they went on to showing a guy coughing his throat to bits, a woman snivelling her nose off…and then a girl in the supermarket, being so exhausted she’s falling into her own trolley! And when I saw that, I shouted "That’s ME! That’s really ME!"


I’ve been so exhausted since last week it’s been ridiculous! I’ve hardly had enough energy to get out of bed! EVERYTHING has felt like an incredible effort! Every morning I’ve woken up with a headache (and I normally never get headaches!). And I’ve continuously been freezing to a point where I’ve used 2 duvets and then, still shaking, even turned the oven on, putting it wide open in order to spread some heat! I’ve even started closing the window!

Anyway, there are people who firmly believe that we can think ourselves better, or fool ourselves into believing that we’re fine. So, according to these people’s beliefs, instead of staying at home eating garlic, drinking camomile tea with honey, you should go out there behaving as if you’ve never felt better! Probably wearing a skirt.
So I did! I was out and about, and even went clubbing in the weekend. In a skirt.
“Good thinking”, I reasoned. “Bet I’ve fooled myself already!”. It’s surprisingly easy being gullible when it’s in your own interest, so to speak.

Yeah, right. That remedy only, and I mean only, works on hypochondriacs! That’s because these people tend to statistically be healthier than everybody else together! In other cases – just stick to the tea! Just do it!

Either way, I thought I’d get away with it if I’d just stay in bed on Sunday, eating soup. I was going to enjoy it as well. Earlier in the week German Girl gave me a book with a note saying “To my Swedish friend – so that you won’t get too homesick this autumn” (being a Swedish book!) I thought it was really sweet of her! And what a fantastic timing! :)
So, that went rather smoothly. The book was finished by Sunday evening and I was assured I was going to be fine the next day.

On Monday morning I felt RELATIVELY ok. Then I got out and it started raining. I haven’t seen rain like that for a long time! There were rivers forming in the streets, lakes on the pavements. At some point for a split second I seriously thought I saw a fish! In the end I contemplated binning my umbrella because what was the point? I was soaking wet anyway! And the most soaked part of me were my shoes and socks which stayed that way from 8 am until 5 pm!

That was when my immune system decided I was clearly taking the piss!

So now I’m having a cold.


PS. I don’t have a temperature though. Only got 36.2 degrees! Morning as well as night. And I wasn’t eating ice lollies or anything while taking it either. Bit weird, no? I thought us humans were supposed to have 37. Thought it was only reptiles and fish and stuff that had lower than that. Well, and now me apparently.

But I don’t really see it as a problem. The only thing is that, well, don’t you normally get some sort of super powers when these things happen? Isn’t that part of the bargain? Spiderman could suddenly climb extraordinarily well, Batman got really cool clothes…and the aliens in “The Alien” got to spit dangerous green stuff! So, I mean…

But look, I’m not asking for any of the ultra cool things, like the ability to fly, because I understand that all those are obviously taken. But maybe, I could…become an amphibian and be able to breathe under water? Something like that?

Oh bollocks…Kevin Costner has already got that one after “Water world”!

Ok, but maybe I could be the Ice Girl then? I could be the master of ice? Maybe heat could be my weakness. Fire could be my kryptonite! No, hang on, wait a minute, why the hell would I voluntarily want to have a weakness? Grow up! Seriously, maybe I could have polar bears as guard dogs and an army of Eskimos? Penguins…maybe we could involve penguins somehow? Yeah, maybe penguins could be my alternative to Dracula’s bats? Serve a similar purpose..?


…..zzz..


But then again, is Dracula really a superman? Have to check on wikipedia tomorrow…


..zzz…..


…but in that case I’m genuinely beginning to question whether Alien really classifies as one either.


Zzzzzzzzz…….(Falling asleep. It’s 03:19 am)



Well at least we can establish that both low as well as high temperatures can make you delirious…

Stop whatever you’re doing and pay attention. I’ve found a solution to all your problems (whatever they may be)! From now on everything will be possible, and the best thing is that you won’t have to make decisions or even think for yourselves! Yep, the future that we’ve all secretly been dreaming of is finally here and oh my, does it look bright!

I had bought a magazine and was absentmindedly glancing through it when I came upon an advert I must have seen a ridiculous amount of times before, but never really paid any attention to.

TEXT a PSYCHIC! Text STARPSYCHIC (space) and then your question to 88100. (Costs £1.50) And you get a proper, foolproof, real life psychic texting you right back, giving you a straight answer to whatever it is that you are troubled about! This is what mobile phones were invented for, surely. This is what they had in mind.

Brilliant!!!

-“I’m in Starbucks! At first I was thinking – get a latte, but then..being here, well..then now I’m suddenly being drawn to the frappuccinos. If I get one, will I regret it when I step out in the cold? Should I go for the latte, as I was in the beginning? Or what do you reckon? Please hurry, mista psycho, cos behind me big big queue! Not looking happy, not looking happy at all! Yours 4ever/Evelyn Xxxxxxxx”

My text message must have got lost in cyper space somehow because their reply didn’t seem to get back to me.

So I tried another one and thought that well,” daily life issues” are clearly not this persons
field of expertise, so I decided to play it big:

-“Ok, how do I manage to achieve great success in all areas of life? I wanna be rich and famous and find the love of my life. Over..!”

Bingo! Got a reply within minutes!

-“Start meditating. Think of stuff like love and respect. Do a yoga class. Ok?”

I will be completely honest with you. I did feel slightly suspicious there and then, thinking that maybe he wasn’t as professional as he tried to appear in the advert. But then suddenly I saw things in a different, more enlightened perspective…

All i had to do to acheive great success in all areas of life was to meditate...and take a random class of yoga?!!

I recall hearing Sir Alan telling all the contestants in “The Apprentice” that there was no way you could ever achieve great success without putting in an extreme amount of hard work and devotion.

Ha! In your face Mr Alan! Clearly all I, personally, have to do is to lay back, cross my legs and dream! Believe me, this is a revelation that I’m welcoming!



I can’t recommend this service enough. I warmly advice you to try it. Trust me when I say it will make your life easier! It really will. ;)

You can thank me later.

“Yours 4ever/Evelyn Xxxxxxxx”

My friend Patricia is whining about me not mentioning her in any posts. (It’s not even true. I have mentioned her.) She means that since I’m writing a diary I should point out when I’ve met up with her, what we did etc.

Hang on there for a minute…say what???

Diary? Who’s writing a diary? Certainly not me! I remember clearly that when I was nine it was standard procedure to hide your diary under your bed (because there nobody would ever be able to find it) so if I was still writing one today, there’s probably where it would be! And nobody would ever be able to find it! (Because it’s quite messy under there.) You can hide it wherever you want, really, but posting it on the net seems to go against all the rules I was ever told back then, as a nine year old!

And I don’t want to write about everything I do and everyone I see anyway, because it would soon feel like nothing more than a necessity. It would turn into a mere report and I wouldn’t feel motivated anymore. And that’s the last thing that I want. I’ve tried to write diaries at home and never managed to keep it up. But this was never meant to become one in the first place. I mean, sure, it’s hard not to mention stuff that you’ve done, but I don’t want it to be in a compulsive, chronological kind of way. That’s dull.

But Patricia went on:

-“Look, you said you were going to post a poem about your plant! I’m your friend. Don’t you love me more than your plant?!?”

Well…that’s a pretty special plant.

But either way, it wasn’t a poem about a plant. It was about a duck. And it wasn’t even my duck. It wasn’t even my poem! It was written by some guy in the ferry terminal in Cowes in the Isle of Wight! Jesus!!!

But you’re right about me wanting to post it. Damn good poem that was. Literature at its best.

So to some stuff that IS interesting to write about…
…my foot hurts! Really hurts. Still! From my walk the other day. I don’t understand what I’ve done. I must have stretched it somehow (without noticing) because it…still…hurts!
Well, that’s pretty much all, really… Very important news are sometimes best left without too much elaboration so that you’re allowed to reflect upon it liberally yourself. Let it sink in properly without too much interference. For as long as you feel appropriate. And if you start feeling sorry for me and getting sudden urges to start sending me flowers and chocolate, then I just want to say that I don’t have a problem with that at all.

Had a great bonfire night! Met my old flatmate Nicole and her boyfriend Jef on party number 1. (Not to be confused with Nicola, who was supposed to pop up at party number 2 but got stuck in Clapham… Almost met up with her tonight though, but decided against it since I’m in serious PAIN! Why? Read on…)
Haven’t seen her for ages, which is totally my fault! I’ve been either away or really busy every time she’s come up with ideas, which I’ve felt quite bad about… Going to change that now though and meet up again as soon as she’s back from Germany next week! :)
By the way, I normally tend to refer to her as “German girl” since there are just too many Nicoles and Nicolas in this city. But through an amazing coincidence the nickname turns out to suit her pretty well, her being German and all. (She’s referring to me as “Swedish girl”..)

But I’ve felt guilty about it! I really have. And thinking about this guilt suddenly reminded me of Helena wanting to come over to London for a weekend and having asked me which week suited me. I haven’t been sure whether I would go to Sweden or not in November so it’s been hard to say, but as it is now, I’ll be staying put here until mid December! I’ll email you tomorrow! Guilt number 2 sorted.

Guilt 3…was supposed to meet up with Marta during last week but didn’t. Was busy. I’m sorry…I’ll text you right away! Straight after this post. No, actually, I’ll do it right now! Doing it…doing it…done! ;)

Ok, now we’ve stepped into a vaguely guilt free (twilight) zone, let’s move on..

Remember my walk to Brighton? (If not, see earlier post…) The same obsession recently came over me again. But this time I thought I’d conquer the west rather than the south. The south has been done. Old news. You know that you know the area too well for your own good when you meet someone from some really small and obscure little village and they try to explain to you that…

- “You wouldn’t know where it is. Nobody does. Not worth knowing either.”
- “Oh, but I do! But I do! I know exactly where it is!”
- “But that’s not…possible. Nobody knows this godforsaken place! There’s no reason for… Nobody would ever voluntarily go there! You must be thinking of somewhere else?”
- “No, TRUST me, I know where it is…”

And then you go on describing not just the roads and neighbouring villages but also some of the various cows and trees in the fields close by! Then there’s a fair chance you’ll be able to detect some serious fear in that persons eyes! :)

So as I said, for the sake of my sanity, it was time for a new direction! (And also, you can’t really get much further south then Brighton without involving fish and seaweed…and I’m just not prepared to do that.) And what more appropriate place is there to invade rather than Windsor? That’s where the queen is! Go for the headquarter, I’d say. That’s what the aliens are doing in every sci-fi movie I’ve ever seen! And they are clearly more intelligent than me because they have their own flying saucers. And I don’t.

And I did it in two goes! Well, if you’ve walked all the way to Brighton, then Windsor seems to be a bit of a stroll, really. Or so I reckoned. I’m quite bad when it comes to estimations and planning. Or, let’s not call it “bad”. Bad is such a bad word. Let’s say I’m just very optimistic. But on my plus side I’m very determined! I don’t give up easily. So if I decide that a walk between Hounslow and Windsor, including a sightseeing tour of both Windsor, Eton and it’s neighbouring areas can be done in not much more than an afternoon, then I won’t give up until it’s done!

It was a nice day. All I say is thank God for my thermos (see earlier posts…) so that I could have a few well deserved coffee breaks on the way, because otherwise I’m not sure what would have happened. I’ve calculated that altogether that day, I walked between 28-30 km!
I’ve told people that it was a “jog/walk” instead of just a walk, and it was! It wasn’t particularly meant to be a jog, but it became one out of desperation of getting through the painful experience as quickly as possible. Some roads are more interesting then others. Walking past the whole space of Heathrow Airport is one of the less interesting routes! So it’s just easier to jog it rather than walk, just to get it over and done with.

But the last bit…between my local tube station and home (which is about 350 meters or so) was so painful I was more or less laughing (because if I’d been walking by myself crying, it would have looked weird)! I was so happy when I finally got home. I don’t know how to possibly describe it in words. So that’s what I meant earlier when saying I was in pain! I think my legs are seriously pissed off with me. And it’s very complicated when different body parts are in conflict with each other because you suddenly become some sort of UN mediator!

-“Listen, I’ll give you (me) a spa treatment later…if you (me) just stop hurting (me) so much! No? Ok, I’ve got a really luxurious body lotion… No, not that either? Ok, how about some Nurofen? Ok, we seem to have deal… (handshake)

Despite my negotiations I decided that this was a day that was made for working from home! But as I’ve explained in other posts, life just isn't that easy, is it? For some reason today was the day when my landlord finally decided that it was time for my bathroom to be renovated! So, after having woken up relatively early, made some coffee and turned on the computer I was disrupted by noise larger than life itself. There’s no way using only letters and words to describe exactly how loud the BAM BAM BAM was, or how out of tune the Indian song they were singing were. But I’m not complaining though. A completely guilt free day off! Nothing I could do about it, but to give in. Although completely guilt free days off normally includes some level of enjoyment, whilst mine only included an infinity of pain and boredom. (It’s sort of like when you’re busy and having loads to do and you find yourself longing for a cold, thinking “wouldn’t it be lovely lying in bed for a couple of days, eating Strepsils, watching movies”…and then when you actually GET a cold, it’s not that much fun anymore because then you don’t have a bloody choice!)

A weird thing happened during my jog/walk by the way. During the last weeks I’ve found myself thinking about a certain lamp me and my ex boyfriend used to have in Paris, on several occasions. For no reason. Whatsoever. Then yesterday, I saw the exact same lamp in a window! It was weird. It’s a lovely lamp. It’s made of some sort of crystal and is supposed to have healing effects if you sleep near it. My boyfriend at the time and his friend had been driving a load of them from St Tropez to Paris as a favour to his aunts friend and had therefore got one of them himself. And now I found the exact same lamp here in London. After having involuntarily been thinking about it! Couldn’t help but to stare manically at it for a while. Surreal..

Speaking of France.. Another guy, Rory, was over there this weekend and suddenly offered to bring me some snails. Snails are to me what lobsters are to a cat. In other words, I sort of like them. Then he comes home reporting failure, saying he couldn’t get hold of any!That’s the French equivalent to Chinese water torture! That’s what the French used to do to prisoners during the revolution! I’m sure that if you check through international treaties and carefully read between the lines, you’ll find that sort of thing to be illegal in civilized countries. That’s cruel, that is! And then he had the cheek to suggest I go pick some myself on the North Circular when it rains! That’s road kill!

(Having said that, there was a guy we used to live with in Paris, Fabrice, who used to go pick snails in the cemetery to give to his mum to cook when he was little. That must possibly be worse…)

Yeah, cheers, thanks, but then again, maybe not. Think I prefer getting my creepy crawlies from the counter in Harrods rather than on the motorway thank you very much. Apparently there’s also supposed to be some great, fantastic French shop close to Trafalgar square that a French guy here in London, Jerome, has found. Great snails there, he claims! Still not sure exactly where it is but it just a matter of time before I find it because now my motivation is on top!


PS. Still having seriously weird dreams by the way, but at the moment for some reason they all seem to concern either swimming pools, New York or swimming pools in New York. I’m not sure if this means I should go on a fantastic trip or just exercise more, but after a few relatively quick calculations I reached the conclusion that a trip to my local swimming pool would be much cheaper than going to one in New York, so the second my legs have forgiven me I’ll be down there swimming again!


PS 2: There’s something seriously wrong with the weather, isn’t it? Or is it just me? A couple of days ago people were going to the beach! Personally I was walking around in a little T-shirt and then buying the newspaper, I read stories about a heath wave! There were pictures of people swimming in the sea and children making sand castles on the beach all over England, from Blackpool to Bournemouth! It’s November! That’s not NORMAL! (But then again, today there’s been a storm so violent it almost pinched my window…) Well, at least when I booked my next flight last week, I voluntarily paid an extra fee to save the environment. So, I’m off the hook when it comes to global heating…right…? Right?

Have had some seriously weird dreams lately but I think this morning I managed to beat my own record! Listen to this. I dreamt that I was a tin of carrots! I dreamt that I was a tin of carrots! How is that even possible? Like..was I the actual tin or one of the chopped carrots inside it? All the carrots together? A merged symbiosis of both the tin and the vegetables?


I remember seeing my neighbour – a tin of peas – being taken away to be cooked for dinner and that I was a bit sad since we had become quite good mates there on the shelf. I was also a bit nervous, because what if I was next?! Then what?
What a sad way to end your days, on a plate with a fork in your chest! It was clearly too much for me to take because it woke me up…

Me off to Jefs party in Angel now. A bit late, but better late than not at all. It will be interesting cos he’s invited a very large amount of people to a very small bar…
I would much rather stay at home drinking tea, reading my book and watching some crap telly because it will be a very very busy day/night tomorrow, but haven’t been to his parties for a while so…have to go! (I just wish I could bring my pillow, but I’m not sure they’d let me in if I did. Life is just not very understanding sometimes..)

Oh, and happy bonfire night tomorrow!!! :)


PS. There’s this really annoying commercial on TV at the moment. I haven’t seen it more than twice but I managed to get equally annoyed at both times! It’s Nintendo advertising for their new “games for girls”! And in the advert you see an adult women playing a pink game on the bus and other places, getting really excited about making a cute little fluffy puppy jump and go “voff voff”! HOW PATHETIC IS THAT? I wouldn’t get excited about that even if was 7! Or 2. (Ok, maybe if I was 2..)

It's Esthers birthday tomorrow and even though she's officially celebrating it on saturday she still (quite obviously) wants to do something tomorrow as well. Like go for a drink and a chat.
Say no more!

I happily took it upon me to find something interesting. Preferably a new place that neither of us have ever heard of, but which is still fantastic enough to be known among the reviews.

I did a good job. I found a place with a dead poet, one which had exceptionally nice plants and one that "you would love so much you'd want to go to sleep".

But after a while i got bored and started experimenting with the searches.. Instead of looking for the "cosiest/best/nicest pubs in London" I began to type in alternatives as "worst/most annoying/dirtiest hellhole...etc".

And I found some hilarious stuff!! One place sounded so horrible I actually wanted to go and have a look! Not go there to actually sit down and be a customer, but to just have a look, like when you go to the museum. To see if it's actually for real!

Seems like there are others with similar goals! Found this advert while looking:

Worst Pub in London?

I need an awful pub, with drunk pensioners wetting themselves, football goons assaulting bar staff, used syringes on the floor in the gents, and poorly cellared (though fairly priced) beer. Something like the Red Lion and Pineapple in Acton but with a greater threat of violence. Acton/Ealing/Chiswick, Bethnal Green, Dagenham or Deptford areas preferred (that makes it easy, no?).

I am meeting an old girlfriend against my will on my next trip. I want a venue so uncomfortable that she will cut the session short, and I don't want to overpay for the (mis)pleasure.


And the replies were equally useful...


What you want is the archetypal pub. Populated by two people, sitting silently at opposite ends of the pub. Bored bar-person, who eventually deigns to serve you, accompanied by deep sighs and scowls. Foul, flat, stale beer served in a filthy glass. Last, but not least the chow-angle, "No food after one thirty!" barked in your face for having the temerity to want to eat a little later.Mind you, with the quality of food on offer in the average English pub, you may want to arrive at twelve thirty to order some 'food'. Get your ex to sample something dragged from the freezer and plunged into hot, rancid oil, served with a limp lettuce leaf, half a tasteless tomato and a scattering of cress.
You'll never see her again.

I emailed Esther immediately to let her know I was on to a winner and that the search was clearly over!

I think she is very close to changing her mind about celebrating her birthday with me... :DD

On Sunday me and Esther went to see ”The Seventh Seal” by Ingmar Bergman. I was quite surprised that she wanted to join me because my way of putting the idea forward probably wasn’t the most impressive.

-“Hey, I’m gonna go and see this film tomorrow. I’m really excited. It’s supposed to be the most depressing film ever made! Wanna come?”

Apparently she found that description appealing! It was a bit tough finding the motivation to go the next day since it was on in the afternoon and we had both been out quite late the night before (and had had a fair bit of wine..good night though!) but since it wasn’t just any movie we both managed to get out of bed.


The thing is that it wasn’t all that depressing after all! I don’t know where people got that idea from. Personally I found it almost uplifting. Amusing even. The film was about a knight who had gone on a journey to find out whether God really existed, but had only found misery, disease and pain. And then Death came along to take his life but agreed to play chess with him for his soul first. I don’t know how people could possibly find that depressing? :)

Ok, ok I guess I can understand that you might not find the message that “we all live in hell and then there will be even more hell after we’ve died” particularly cheerful. Not really worth celebrating. Might not make you want to dance or skip or whistle. But from a different perspective there can almost be a certain comfort in the fact that the same anxiety that we are suffering from today is exactly the same as it was in the 14th century, when the film is supposed to be taking place. Or in 1957 when it was first released.
It sort of makes me feel that if people were tampering with these questions 700 years ago, well, then it would be rather vain on my part to believe that I would come up with any new answers that they didn’t managed to find there and then!
But having said that, I guess we all start from scratch the day we were born, so we all have more or less the same prospects of coming up with some amazing new insight.

This made me think of the director of the film, Ingmar Bergman. He’s always been famous for being very deep and maybe a bit difficult. And he’s supposedly always been quite depressed. And even though a lot of people would say “Well, no wonder he’s depressed after insisting on working with issues like that…”, I think it’s more the other way around. I think it must have been his state of mind that forced him to go in the directions that he did and that gave him his creativity and purpose.

Since he just died a couple of months ago, I was thinking about that fantastic mind of his and all those insights he must have found during his life that had now died with him. Unless he’s written them down, that is. It should be illegal to die without filling out some sort of questionnaire beforehand about what you had discovered during your time here on earth!
Think about it! Everybody has had some sort of vision during their lifetime, some sort of wise thought or answer or revelation. As the human species it should be in our common interest to gather and save as much as possible from each and every person who has lived. It would be like building a gigantic puzzle, instead of us simply starting with a blank sheet over and over again.

Now I’m going to make it my mission to find whatever Bergman has written to see if he’s found some answers to the questions I’m asking myself. I mean, I don’t really know how old he was when he died, but let’s say he was in his eighties. Then he might have lived for about 55 years more than I have now, which means he’s had 55(365)+(55/4)=20088 more days to find something than I’ve had. Which could save me some serious time. I might even consider giving myself a break! :)

But then again, the reason he chose the 14th century as the settings to the film might have been a way to show us that the questions raised are eternal and that after 700 more years into the future, we’ll still be pulling our hair out in agony over the same sodding things…

Ah well…

Either way, it gave me some form of comfort and when I saw this miserable knight (see picture) carrying the world on his shoulders being exhausted by spending his life looking for the truth, I felt for him. He had some sort of unearthly beauty about him, that you normally only find in princes and princesses in fairytales.
And I felt that if I had seen him in the street, I would have wanted to run up to him and shake him by the shoulders, shouting “I understand you! We can join forces!”.
But unfortunately it happens to me very rarely that I run into medieval knights in the streets. I don’t know where you tend to spend your time, but personally I’d have to say that I can’t remember the last time I saw one even in the supermarket or the post office!

After the film, Esther wanted to show me a “secret treasure” of hers, which turned out to be a dark, damp and absolutely mesmerizing cellar in the shape of a wine bar.


Unfortunately she’s made me promise not to give out the address or even a vague direction of the place since it’s so popular already it’s almost always packed with people. Although the fantastic/annoying thing is that it’s so low to the ceiling, it’s virtually impossible to stand up among the tables, so if you manage to get one it’s possible to avoid the crowds for as long as you sit down.

Sitting there I suddenly realised that was probably one of the places in London where you’d be most likely to see a potential knight! I was almost beginning to feel hope, but sadly none popped around. But I’ve figured out why since then. Quite obviously they’re all hanging out in the Tower of London. Silly me…

Seems like Halloween is being celebrated during two weekends this year..which is a bit confusing, but fine with me! :) I love ghosts. The more opportunities to socialize with them the better..! :-D
But the real question is...where the ____ did I put my witch hat?!? It's beautiful. Got cobwebs on it.


Was just thinking of something I found quite hilarious yesterday. Was out for a drink with a group of people and ended up chatting to some guy. And on my way back I suddenly started analysing what we had actually been talking about! It's incredible what kind of weird conversations tend to pop up in pubs between people who doesn't know each other! Listen to this...:

Him: - It's a bit weird really, but I was just wondering earlier today when I was looking in the mirror if I see the same person others are seeing..
Me: - Umm...yes it's tricky with those things, really is.
Him: -Yes, like if others see you the same way you do yourself...cos I mean, we are so used to our own face...
Me (helping out): -...which others are not!
Him: -No, exactly!
Me: -You know, that is actually true! Earlier today, on the tube, there was suddenly this abstract reflection of a reflection of a reflection in the window...
Him: - Fascinating...
Me: -Yes. And there you could see the vague outlines of various faces, and...guess what?
Him: -What?
Me: (brief paus for added effect) - I recognized myself...almost.. immediately!!
Him: -Amazing!
Me: -I'd say!

Eh...say what??? SAY WHAT??? :-D What the hell was I SAYING? What the hell was HE saying? :-D Incredible... Couldn't help but to laugh when I got home later. Hilarious. :-D :-D :-D

No, it wasn’t the bugs that were my new, exciting challenge! They were merely a bonus, even if a grand one at that. No, what managed to capture me in that book shop, was a beginners course in Tai Chi. It was something that I had found myself thinking of on and off lately for no apparent reason, and wherever I went I seemed to hear or see something about it over and over again. Weird coincidences filling my life as so many times before. So I guess you could say it wasn’t my own choice really. I’m sure I was “supposed” to run into that course! Destiny had only used the bugs as bait to lure me into the shop in the first place. Know your victim. Clever trick, I’d say…


The first time I watched the cd I was very close to falling asleep. It’s a pretty calm sport, let’s put it that way. But when I gave it a proper go and concentrated as fully on every move as would ever be possible, it began to intrigue me.
The thing is that when you’re focusing on one single thing, you’re emptying your mind of everything else, which is why it works so great for reducing stress. In a peculiar way it almost felt like an indulgence, allowing your mind to let go of all its preoccupations and possible worries and just letting your body and soul unite and develop together. I found it had a similar effect on me as meditation, which when done right also tends to give you a sort of enhanced feeling of awareness and control. And clarity, I guess. At least I found it was easier to reason with myself and make decisions just after a session. I’m genuinely happy I started doing this! Am going to join a group practising in the park! :) And, well, it isn’t exactly a problem that the instructor is a virtual look alike of David Duchovny…

I used to do ballet for quite a while a long time ago, and for some reason ballet is one of those things that somehow gets programmed into your DNA after you’ve learnt it. Even if you wouldn’t have danced for half a century and then spent three more being frozen in a laboratory in order to be reborn in the future – you would still be able to get into the main ballet positions or do simple pirouettes within minutes after woken up. You don’t even have to think, your body is just doing these things by itself.
So when doing something vaguely similar, as in Tai Chi, it’s quite hard for me not to use the basic ballet movements, turn my hands in certain ways, look in a specific direction in relation to my ankle… These things are just automatic.
It’s a bit like learning new language. Since you’re new at it, your own language shows through when you speak in the shape of an accent. So I guess in a way I’m doing Tai Chi with a bit of a ballet accent… :)

I think for me the best time to do this, or any other vaguely spiritual exercises, is in the morning just at dawn before the sun has come up properly. It’s still so quiet and it feels like the world is yours alone for just a little while.
I normally put my alarm on 07:25 (and no, that doesn’t always lead to me waking/getting up straight away. Since you asked..), but this week for reasons unknown, I’ve continuously woken up way before 7 to some of the most extraordinary sunrises I’ve ever seen.
It’s seemed as if the whole street, my curtains, me had been wrapped up in huge silky apricot drapes for something that seemed like ages. I guess if you try to find spirituality - it finds you.

Since I’m sounding like a hippie now anyway I might as well take the opportunity to tell you about my latest “invention”. I came up with it in Portugal but didn’t have access to the internet at the time.

You know how something you see or hear suddenly can remind you of something, maybe an emotional memory or experience, in an instant. It can be a photo, some old ticket or odd piece of paper or a certain melody. And it can bring back some pretty vivid images in your mind straight away. But I thought to myself that that mostly happens even more intensely when it comes to smell! To me every town or city has got it’s own unique smell.

When I was little, me and my family used to go travelling for quite a while every summer. And every year when we came back, always late at night, I could always tell immediately the minute we drove into Malmö even if I’d been asleep and still had my eyes closed.
I think it was something about the trees since there are so many big lush trees framing the roads and each of the gardens along them around where we live. If I try, I can smell that same scent within a second, wherever I am and whenever I want, and it means so much more to me than any picture.
I’ve got so many examples of nostalgic personal memories of scents throughout my life that I could go on for hours. Probably weeks.

The thing is that people always use their other senses for various ways of stimulation or entertainment, but never their sense of smell. People go museums to watch works of art and they call them beautiful. They go to concerts and listen to music and let themselves get completely absorbed in the experience. We go to restaurants to enjoy our sense of taste and we hug and kiss each other, or our pets (and some people even trees!) to share a sensation of touch. But the sense of smell seems to be completely overlooked!

Pretend there were an equivalent to a museum only or partly based on smell! Imagine entering small completely dark rooms with mixtures of scents from specific places around the world that allows you to freely use your imagination of how it feels to be there, right then and there.
It wouldn’t have to be dark though, it could be accompanied with light effects or pictures or various sounds. Even the temperature of the rooms could match the smell!
If you’ve been to the London Dungeon you must realize what an important impact the smell has got on a place like that. It really smells of a rat infested dungeon filled to the brim with disease and death. It makes up for a large part of the fear. Makes it so much more real.

But smell could be used in so many other ways than just help you fear for your life. Even just simple concepts could work fantastically! Like a room with a strawberry field. Or a room full of wet dogs. Or one with the sound of a gentle spring rain with a matching smell. That’s some serious aroma therapy!

And just imagine how much money you could do if you’re in marketing. Let’s say you put sensors in a shopping centre that occasionally spray a mild scent of Fanta into the air. Surely it would work in the same way as subliminal pictures do when they trick our brains into believing we’re thirsty? Probably works even better! You’d go buy a Fanta! You really would!

One day it will happen.

Ok, so it’s Sunday and my latest epiphany told me Sundays are great for doing healthy stuff, partly to make up for the unhealthy things that might have occurred over the weekend but also because it gives you a lot of energy for the next week. Great. It's almost as if I've grown up.

I decided to go hiking for a few hours and complete another part of my latest trail. But nothing is completely unproblematic, is it? Look, all I really wanted was to have a cup of tea among trees and birds, reading a book. It’s not a lot to ask if you think about it.

Earlier this week I bought a thermos. Really nice. Black and sort of shiny. I thought the prospects were looking great and were convinced we were going to get along perfectly and share a lot of exciting moments together.

Today when I opened it I found a leaflet with instructions of how to use it. I was almost about to not bother reading it, because how many instructions can you possibly need to make a cup of tea… Apparently life is not as easy as I thought!

As I said, all I wanted was a cup of tea. I normally tend to drink tea with sugar and milk.


Instruction number 1: Don’t use the thermos for sugary drinks!

Instruction number 2: Don’t put milk in the thermos!

Aaaaaaaarrrrrrrgggghhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!

Instruction number 3: Don’t drink straight from the thermos!


Yes, yes I know that you’re probably thinking “but, Evelyn, this is not really what I would call a problem – it’s quite easy to just bring some sugar in a box by itself, then a tea spoon so that you can stir the sugar into the tea and finally a handy little bottle filled with milk to add by itself and then drink it out of your mug that you will have brought separately”.

Yes, yes but why…like..why would I …..why should I…….why…..oh for the love of God – this is my version of handling this problem:

I AM going to put a sugary drink in my thermos and I AM going to mix it with milk. And I was actually planning to bring a mug but just because I feel childish today I won’t, which means I WILL drink my tea straight from the bottle. This means I’ll now be challenging the thermos people on three points out of three! That’s what I call living on the edge…

This is gonna be fun!